


Burn

by TSTrashCaptain



Series: Hamilton AU Series [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Sweetheart, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Being an Idiot, Hurt Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Infidelity, M/M, Prince Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Prinxiety - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 12:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18476500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TSTrashCaptain/pseuds/TSTrashCaptain
Summary: A short semi-songfic inspired by the song "First Burn".An exploration of betrayal, and anger, really.





	Burn

**Author's Note:**

> I have no explanation for this, other than I heard the song and felt a mighty need to write this. Heed the warnings, this is angsty.
> 
> TW: Infidelity, swearing

Roman’s feet dragged on the floor, feeling like lead as he slowly trudged through the house towards the study. He could still see the furious look on Logan’s face as he threw the Reynold’s Pamphlet in his face, still hear the words echoing in his head. _“I love my brother more than anything in this life, and I will choose his happiness over mine every time! I’m here for him, to stand at his side while he endures bitter torment because YOU were foolish enough to respond to schoolyard taunts with...THIS! Whatever we may have had? It’s done. Virgil is all that matters now. I hope you’re happy, you selfish bastard.”_

 

Well, he certainly _wasn’t_ happy! Roman had been so sure when that lying snake had approached him that the only way to preserve his professional reputation was to come clean. To put everything out there so that no one could ever accuse him of fraud or theft. In hindsight, it was beyond stupid, and he regretted every single word he’d penned, but the damage was done. Now the only thing he had left to do was to confront his husband. Roman hesitated outside the door, his hand hovering uncertainly over the knob. This was the study he and Virgil had spent hours in together, the one place in their home he’d never allowed another soul to enter. Not even...him.

 

He slowly opened the door, and his heart shattered in his chest at the sight of his husband kneeling on the floor in front of a crackling fire, his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. “...Virgil…?”

 

Virgil’s shoulders tensed immediately, but he didn’t turn or look at him. He held up a sheaf of parchments, holding them still so that Roman could see them. Letters. Countless letters that he’d written to Virgil during their courtship. Letters that Virgil had kept and treasured, letters he’d often caught his husband re-reading with a soft smile on his face. Virgil didn’t turn at all, just grabbed one out of the stack, bringing it closer to his face. “I keep re-reading these, over and over again, trying to figure out what I missed.”

 

“Darling--” Roman started, stepping forward.

 

“DON’T!” Virgil snarled, whirling. His eyes were red from crying, tears on his face, but the fury in them was unmistakable, betrayal and pain nearly making his voice crack. “ _Don’t_ take another step closer to me, you son of a bitch.” His glare pinned Roman where he stood, froze him in place.

 

Virgil held the letter to his face, reading it one last time with a grim expression, then turned and tossed it into the fire. “I’m burning every single one of these, since they clearly mean nothing. You aren’t the man who wrote these. I don’t know who the hell you are anymore, but you’re welcome to stand over there, if you want.”

 

Roman couldn’t help the wordless sound of protest that was ripped from his throat as he watched the letter go up in flames. Virgil’s eyes shot to his, their normally kind brown depths an inky well of pain in the relative darkness. “You don’t get to protest. You lost that right the minute you published _THIS_.” The balled up paper hit Roman squarely in the chest. He didn’t have to look at it to know what it was.

 

“I didn’t mean--”

 

“Mean to what? To bring a stranger into our home, into our BED?! Praytell, how did it happen, then?” Virgil snapped, another letter going into the flames. “I’d ask if you tripped, but we both know exactly how big a lie that would be. You published every letter he wrote to you, every disgusting detail of what you did together, so the whole world knows just how big a fool you made of me.”

 

Roman flinched, but stayed silent, his head bowing in shame. Virgil scoffed, tossing two more letters into the fire in rapid succession. “In clearing your name, you’ve ruined our lives, you know that, don’t you? Heaven forbid your enemies whisper that you’re part of some scheme! The whisper a taunt, so you have to scream over them to silence them, and for WHAT?”

 

“I…” Roman trailed off at the raw misery on Virgil’s face as he looked at him.

 

“You think I don’t know about whispers? That I don’t see the way you look at my brother whenever he’s around? I’m not stupid, Roman. Then again, I had no idea you were fucking someone else in our own home, blissfully ignorant that I was sleeping in the same place you bedded another man, so maybe I AM stupid.” Tears were streaming down Virgil’s face, his voice cracking with emotion. “I was willing to pretend it was okay that you’re in love with Logan, I really was. I thought if I loved you enough, maybe you could love me back. And for awhile, I thought I’d finally managed it. We have three children, a life and a family. I thought that mattered to you, thought _I_ mattered to you!”

 

“You do! Virgil, you do!” Roman blurted out, reaching a hand out, but Virgil slapped him away furiously.

 

“Do I?! Then when the time comes, _you_ can explain to the children the pain and embarrassment you put me through. When are you going to learn that _they_ are your legacy, that _we_ are your legacy? The rest of the world may forget you, but the people who loved you never will!” Virgil nearly shouted it, and Roman recoiled, guilt nearly eating him alive.

 

“...Loved…?” The past tense made Roman feel like the world was tipping on its axis. Maybe he’d never truly understood how much he had come to depend on Virgil’s limitless love and support until just this moment, when he realized it might all be over.

 

“...Do you remember when I begged to be part of your narrative? Begged you to let me into your heart, into your life?” Virgil asked quietly, looking down at the remaining stack of letters. Tears dotted the paper, smearing the ink as Roman nodded. “Forget it. I’m erasing myself from your narrative. Let future historians wonder how I reacted when you broke my heart. I don’t give a damn what they think of you, and they have no right to me or my heart.”

 

Virgil whirled and threw the entire stack of letters into the fire with a small, heart wrenching sob. “This doesn’t matter. None of it can erase what you’ve done, how little you value me and your family, and there aren’t any words you can ever give me to change it now. I’ll stay, I don’t have a choice, but I’ll sleep in the guest quarters. You won’t be welcome there, not now, not _ever_. In fact, it would be better if you slept in your office instead, don’t you think?”

 

Every word landed like a blow, and Roman felt tears streaming down his face as he looked at Virgil, haloed in the glow from the fire. “I...I’m so sorry--”

 

“So am I.” Virgil cut him off, stalking towards him. For a moment, he was sure his husband was about to slap him, and perhaps he was, but in the end he just stood there, toe to toe with him. “If you ever made the mistake of thinking you were mine? Don’t.”

 

Roman stared after his husband long after he’d gone, those words echoing in his brain. He didn’t know if he’d ever unhear them, ever unsee the bitter pain in Virgil’s eyes. As he stumbled to his desk, sitting in the chair he’d so often spent hours writing at, he couldn’t help but think that this may be the one thing that he couldn’t write his way out of.


End file.
